


Confidence

by roosterteethrambles



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Smut ahead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 05:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosterteethrambles/pseuds/roosterteethrambles
Summary: You're not the biggest fan of the way you look. And sometimes that stops you from realising when other people are.





	Confidence

**Author's Note:**

> I can't date this with an ACTUAL date, but I CAN tell you it was written after Jon posted That Picture of him shirtless w Bella that is described in the fic.

It’s getting late, and you haven’t heard from Jon. Normally he’s very punctual with letting you know when he’s home, especially since he’d promised you a spot on one of his streams soon. You’re not the only one that’s wanted that either - the community’s loved the dynamic between you and Jon since that time you were on On the Spot, commandeered Jon’s seat and recited his Credit Karma ad read from memory in his exact tone. They’ve even gone as far as to ship you under the guise of  _ Credit Score _ . 

You don’t mind in the slightest, and on-screen, neither does Jon. Which you’d totally be here for were he not a total affection hoarder. He’s the kind of guy who would tweet about getting pizza and fuel a ship to form between himself and the delivery guy.

Still, you text him: Hey! You back yet?

His reply is almost instantaneous: Yeah! You really think I’d still be in San Antonio at this time?

You: No, but normally my friend Jon texts me when he’s home. So clearly either you’re a synth or you’re still at PAX without any actual booths or guests.

Jon: So somebody’s been catching up with Fallout while I’ve been gone.

You: Not all of us can jet-set across to whatever convention they want!

Jon: It’s 79 miles away. Hardly a getaway vacation!

Jon: See? Home with Bella!

You open the attachment and your breath literally hitches. Jon, sprawled across his bed wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama pants which leave very little to the imagination. Your eyes focus on everything individually within a matter of seconds: his perky chest and how good it would feel to press the pads of your fingers against it; his soft torso and how his back would arch as you trailed kisses down it; the outline of his member pressing against the fabric effortlessly.

Your face turning bright red, you throw caution to the wind and text: What. The fuck. Was that.

Jon: Oh what, are you gonna convict me of being a generation 3 now?

You: I don’t care what you’re made of, what the FUCK

Jon: I don’t think I understand you.   
Jon: And not because I’m a robot or anything. Cause I’m totally not.

You: HOW can you be so calm after you sent THAT?!

Jon: Oh! So you liked what you saw, huh?

You: Is that not obvious?

Jon: Well, a little. But at least I know that that’s mutual. Where are you right now? Are you out tonight?

You blush furiously, practically biting through your bottom lip entirely as you contemplate returning Jon’s selfie with one of your own. You talk yourself into it by realising you can always play it off as mocking him for being so self-absorbed, and that if he thinks it looks too ridiculous you can always say you're just doing what he did. You still hesitate for a while before trying to position yourself in a way that you’re comfortable with but you hope still mirrors how Jon was posed. Your fingers are shaking as you type and send the caption as a response.

You: Been home this whole time!

Jon: I really want to compliment you, but it might sound a tad inappropriate.

You gasp out loud, pressing your lips together and narrowing your eyes as you hurriedly tap out: Go for it.

Jon: Your tits look fucking incredible in that tank top.

Jon: Don’t get me wrong, the rest of you is just as phenomenal. Like, oh my god. But wow, your breasts are exceptionally stunning there.   
Jon: Went off on a tangent a bit there. Sorry.

You run the hand not holding your phone through your hair, blowing air up into your bangs. You read the messages he sent you over and over. You look down at your chest - something all you’ve ever seen as is two lumps of fat dangling from your torso - and contemplate how Jon of all people could find it “incredible.” As you move to look at the rest of your body, the bottom of your shirt rides up, revealing your stretch marks. Panicking, you scroll to the picture but you’re relieved to see they’re very much still covered there.

There’s still the matter of replying to Jon. You could tell him how ridiculous you find it that he’d think of you in that way, but another voice in your head tells you  _ hey, if he likes what he sees, don’t try and put him off _ . You take a deep breath and figure if he’s gonna be brutally honest, you might as well be too.

You: Jesus Christ, don’t be.

You wait anxiously for a reply. It takes a while but the ‘typing’ animation materialises. It stays there for a few moments before...

Jon: It’s right now more than ever before that I fucking hate post-con tiredness.

You sigh in relief, assuming that’s what took him so long to reply.

You: Get some rest, you! I’ll still be around in the morning!

Jon: Alright, alright, I’ll go. Night!

You read back that conversation again and again until your eyes grow heavy. You’re sure by this point you have it committed to memory.

When you wake, you’re not sure how to start up conversation with Jon. Sure, you want to continue where you left off, but you also don’t want to appear desperate. You let it slide, concentrating more on your work than anything else. When you see Jon stood by his car talking, your cheeks grow hot again. You run straight across the parking lot to the Achievement Hunter office pronto.

You thank everything out there for the fact that you don't often work in close proximity to Jon. Yet sure enough, you soon hear Michael yelling, “God damn, Risemonger, get your own couch!”

You also hear Jon’s defense, “Hey now, I'm not here nearly as often as I used to be!”

You notice there's an extra air of perkiness in the way he's speaking today, and so does Geoff: “You are way too happy for a Monday morning.” Jon just shrugs and happily sets up his laptop.

A few hours into the work day and he knocks on your door. “Hey there, Bumble!”

You're so thrown by the nickname that you forget what you were worrying about around Jon in the first place. You narrow your eyes up at him. “Bumble?”

“Yeah, you busy little worker bee!” he chirps, resting his fists on your desk and leaning forward. “You've hardly left these four walls since you got here! Don't tell me you're gonna skip out on lunch with everyone too?” He sticks out his lower lip and you groan lowly, looking back at your monitor. He leans closer to it to chime, “We’re getting Homeslice today!” You groan louder, looking down at your keyboard. Jon practically drapes himself across your desk to stick his head into view, turning to look up at you and grin, “Homeslice is your faaavourite!” in a sing-song voice.

You initially frown, “I'm the Achievement Hunter co-ordinator, Jon. Think about it. Achievement Hunter co-ordinator. Those two phrases basically cancel each other out, I gotta devote so much time into this!”

Jon laughs, still leaning beneath you, “But you need some time out so you don't burn yourself out!”

You chuckle, “If you can get off my desk without knocking any of my stuff over, then fine,” you challenge, gesturing towards the various figurines and photo frames right by Jon's hands and feet. Jon slowly twists himself round and slides down to the floor on his feet and bounces back up. The whole affair is less than elegant, causing you to tease him by singing, “He's beauty and he's grace…”

“I’m Miss United States!” Jon cheers, lifting his arms up. “See you at lunch, Y/N!”

Lunch goes by smoothly, mostly due to the fact that you're with a whole group of people from all departments of your work. While you're out, Michael invites everyone there to “swimmies and bevs” at the weekend, which Jordan from Animation happily translates to you as “come over to Michael’s place to use his swimming pool and also get drunk.”

This immediately starts to make you feel nervous. You can't stand to see yourself in any kind of bathing suit - in fact, you can't remember when you last bought one, or what your body type was like at the time. But with it constantly changing, despite everyone else telling you it's perfectly natural and they go through it too, it's just never as noticeable as yours. Lindsay does make the point every now and then that you only accentuate your changes because you're going through them, same as she does with hers. 

You look to Lindsay for support to see she’s already narrowing her eyes at you, silently willing you to actually try instead of running away. Jon seems happy about going, but then if you looked the way he did last night, you would be too.

Jon returns to his office for the remainder of the day, which you appreciate because you've now got enough on your plate, between work causing you stress and your social calendar giving you anxiety. Lindsay knocks on your door after everyone’s done recording for the day and sits in your office with you. “You know, we’re not gonna force you to come out this weekend if you really don’t want,” she assures you.

You smile over to your friend, “That’s the thing, I kinda do want! But I don’t wanna be the only one not in a bathing suit. I’ll look weird.”

“Well, you could always just say it’s not the time of the month for you to be wearing swimwear,” Lindsay suggests, but you shake your head.

“Nah, because what if Michael suggests it again when I am on?”

“Well, you don’t have to explain yourself. It’s your choice if you don’t want to, we’re not gonna judge,” Lindsay puts her arm around you reassuringly.

You smile, leaning your head on her shoulder. “Yeah, but I’ll feel weird.” You take a deep breath in before continuing, “You know what? I think I will go. I’ll see how I feel at the time in terms of what I’ll wear, but -” You’re cut off by Lindsay’s squeal and her arms flying out to hug you tightly.

“Oh, this is gonna be awesome!” she grins before rushing back out to pack up her own desk for the day and presumably tell Michael of your confirmation.

Later that evening, after you’ve eaten  your dinner (and gotten through a good half a bottle of wine already) and you’re just laying on your couch, you decide to take a little scroll through Tumblr. You like to keep up to date with what the fandom’s into so that you can incorporate it into AH’s content. You’re scrolling down your dashboard when you see that someone’s reblogged a picture of a topless torso with a whole caption about it being week 15 of someone’s personal project. You feel happy for that person until something strikes your eye. They mentioned Tyler Coe saying something he’s never said on camera. You scroll up a little and subconsciously inhale sharply as you recognise the half face shown as Jon. 

You feel like messaging him, but too many thoughts cross your mind. It might be too soon after those messages from the previous night. Those messages might have been sent purely because he was sleep-deprived and he might not want you to talk to him in that way now. You turn your phone round and round in your hand repeatedly before deciding to throw caution to the wind. It worked well with the hickey galaxy line. Maybe if you keep that facade up, it’ll have the same result. 

You: Hey! Just saw your progress post on Tumblr. Prouda yoooou.

Jon: YOU HAVE TUMBLR AND I DIDN’T KNOW?! I’m a little offended. What’s your URL?

You text him it, followed by: Don’t know why you’re so upset, but I have two rules. Number one, you don’t go past a month before I started working for RT, and number two, you let me enjoy Rami Malek in peace.

Jon: Done and done. 

A little while after, Jon sends you another text - a screenshot of one of your posts: YOU SEE. This is why I was offended at not following you!!

Your heart sinks as it simultaneously begins pounding quickly. You shakily respond: What’s so wrong with that?

Jon: You’re hiding selfies from me!!

You: Well, not just you. I post most of my selfies to Tumblr because in contrast to everything else, my blog has way less followers so it’s not as daunting.

Jon: Well, if that’s the sort of content I can expect, you’ve gained yourself another follower. Are you coming to the Jones’ this weekend?

You feel the alcohol start to buzz through you as you answer: Yeah! Not sure what I’m gonna wear though.

Jon: Well, a bathing suit of some kind is probably the best start there.

You: Ha. Not on this.

Jon: What do you mean?

You don’t want to start trying to end up fishing for Jon’s validation so you just ignore your phone for a while and go to take a long, hot shower. Once you’ve done, settled into your most comfortable PJs and made yourself a coffee to help sober you up, you return to your couch and see two unread messages.

Jon: Oh. I think I get it.   
Jon: Well if it’s any consolation, I think you’d rock whatever you felt like wearing.

You blush, biting at your lip and once again lost for words. You hastily type out a: Thanks. Kinda tired now so I’m gonna hit the hay. Night.

Jon replies with an “Alright, goodnight!” And so begins your most restless night in Austin to date.

It’s not that you’re outright trying to avoid Jon at this point. No, you’re just immersing yourself in your work. You’re just being passionate about your job. You’re certainly not terrified about your little work crush developing into something more, especially if it’s unrequited. That’s what you keep telling yourself, anyway. You don’t think it’s working.

Sunday night rolls over quicker than you anticipated. You had bought a bathing suit, and you’re currently stood in front of your bathroom mirror wearing it, as well as a face of disgust. You pull at your hips, push your stomach fat forward. You shake your knees and watch your thighs move and you feel terrible. You slide your regular clothes on and drive to the Jones’, cursing yourself internally.

Nobody makes a big deal of you wearing clothes - in fact, a couple of other people are too. It’s not too big of a crowd - there’s obviously Michael and Lindsay, Gavin and Meg, Barbara and Aaron, then Chris, Jordan, Blaine, Tyler, Mariel and Jon. Lindsay offers you a drink and a hug, reassuring you that everyone will just be happy you showed up.

As you watch everyone splashing around and having fun in the pool, you ultimately feel bad for not joining in. You’re envious of your friends. Barbara’s opted out of the swimmies part for tonight as well, and moves round to join you. The pair of you talk work for a little while before she asks the inevitable, “So how’s the love life?”

You let out a loud, single laugh. “Still continues to not exist.”

Barbara frowns to you. “Well that’s not on! Why not?”

You shrug, “I dunno, ask every guy out there.”

“I’ve only ever heard positive things about you,” Barbara notes nonchalantly.

You sit bolt upright, eyes wide. “What does that mean?!”

She starts with a smirk, “Well…” before sitting up to point out, “Pretty much every time you come up in conversation, people talk about how well you pull off every outfit you wear. Whenever you smile, at least three people in the same room do as well…”

You feel your face glowing red hot and defuse the tension you’re feeling with a giggle, “Barbara, are you coming onto me?”

She laughs, “I wish, but a) Aaron won’t let me because he’s worried you’ll actually win me over, an-” she interrupts herself with a big sip of her drink.

You try and prompt her, “And?”

She shrugs, “That was all.”

“No, you said a) the Aaron thing and then you started to say ‘and’!” you defend.

The corners of her mouth lift up, “No I didn’t. Probably the beer talking,” she gestures to your bottle and you shake your head.

“Fine then. Don’t tell me.” You lay back and close your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of your friends having a good time wash through your ears. By the time you open your eyes again, it’s now Jon laying next to you. Of course. “Damn, Barbara, you’ve changed,” you mumble, and Jon laughs.

“Nah, she’s gone over to talk to Aaron. So a no-go on the swimmies, huh?”

“I am wearing them!” You pull out the strap of your bathing suit over your top to show Jon.

“Tease,” he smirks, and you chuckle, tucking it back. “You still having fun, though?”

“Yeah! It’s nice to know my friends are having fun,” you nod with a smile.

“Right! Someone else gets it,” he smiles, and you glance at him questioningly. He continues, “Well, sometimes actually participating can be a little too overwhelming. Sometimes it’s nice to just sit back and enjoy the company of your friends having a good time while you kick back. Doesn’t make you antisocial.”

You’re relieved someone else can put everything into words too, “Yes! That’s exactly what it is!” Well. Not exactly. But you’re hardly going to tell Jon that it’s because you couldn’t stand to see yourself bare any more flesh than already necessary. You also only just notice that Jon’s wearing a shirt. “You’re not feeling up to it either?”

He shrugs, “Not today.”

“But what about Operation Shirtless or whatever it was called?” you ask lightly.

“It’s ‘Project “Be Able To Take My Shirt Off Without Crying”’, actually,” Jon corrects with a chuckle, “and well. It’s an ongoing project. Doesn’t mean I’m there yet.”

“I certainly wouldn’t cry if I was at that stage,” you blurt out before immediately pressing your lips together in surprise. 

You chance a sideways look at Jon, who’s chewing on his lower lip. “Really?” You nod quickly and start scrolling through any and every social media feed on your phone. You hear Michael yelling something at Jon and eventually Jon sighs, “Excuse me,” before running towards the pool, throwing his shirt off and behind him as he launches himself into the water and towards Michael. You laugh at the sight, watching Jon’s body glide through the water with everyone else. He catches sight of you and beams towards you, which you return. You’d always wondered how crushes would change as you got older since, in high school, you never really noticed “adults” having crushes. You’re now learning they still do, they’re just better at hiding it.

After a couple of weeks (and a couple more posts from Project Emotionally Compromise Y/N or whatever it was Jon seemed to call his workout progress) you’re asked if you would go and help out at a convention booth representing Rooster Teeth. Also invited are Lindsay, Michael, Barbara and Jon. Of course. You still accept though - it would be nice to get away from the same four walls for a few days.

On the first night of your stay, the five of you head out for some quiet drinks and light chatter. Nothing special, nothing too different. The second night, and therefore the first night of the actual con, you get back to your hotel room and immediately change into your pyjamas, throwing yourself onto the bed and sighing in relief. You scroll through your phone, the first time you’ve been able to access any kind of social media all day. You see that people have tagged you in pictures they’ve taken with you and it honestly warms your heart. You like and reblog/retweet every one making sure you let them know how happy you were to meet them. You make another tweet of your own: Exhausted after day one but so glad I got to meet so many lovely people! Bring on day two!!!

You refresh your feed to make sure it sent typo-free when you see just underneath yours:

Jon Risinger @JonRisinger 1m   
Post-con tiredness will be the death of me.

Attached to it is a picture of him with his hand running through his frazzled hair. You immediately frown at it - how dare he look that good even when tired?!

You text Jon: Is it because you have experience with conventions or have you sold your soul to always look good even when tired?!

Jon: Haha, I sold my soul long ago, silly! How do you think I got the On the Spot gig?

You: Okay, true. Also, like. I feel tired, but I don’t want this to be the end of the day, you feel?

Jon: Yeah, I do actually! Normally I’d just head to the bar.

You: I’m too tired to socialise though!

Jon: What, even just to see little ol’ me? 

You: I guess, if you came down here.

Jon: And why should I have to be the one to come down to you?

You look down at what you’re wearing. It wasn’t intentional or anything, but who knows. Maybe you will get a continuation from that one night.

You: Well, I’m already in my pyjamas, and you seemed to like them a couple weeks ago…

He reads the message but doesn’t reply for a while. You figure it was a long shot anyway and load up the first game you find on your phone. As you’re playing it, the door knocks. Puzzled, you yell out, “It’s open!”, not wanting to get up. 

You do, however, sit bolt upright when you see Jon walk in, placing your phone on the cabinet next to you. He looks at you and beams warmly. “Holy fuck, you look better in those in person.”

You know Jon means well with the compliment. You know there’s an air of a genuine nature to his tone. Yet still your body naturally cowers at the thought of being praised. You shake your head and roll up into a ball, turning away from Jon and squeezing your eyes shut. Goddamn, you’d invited him down and yet still you couldn’t see it through. Excellent.

You feel the mattress sink next to you, a hand stroke your arm. You hear Jon’s soft, low voice, “Hey, what’s up?”

You mumble your answer, and Jon makes a sound to show he didn’t quite understand you. You take a deep breath out. “I’m not used to hearing nice things about my body. Even less so from people who look like you,” you add with a slight smile, still not looking at Jon.

He soon presses down to turn you onto your back so that you’re facing him. He’s leaning on one elbow looking down at you, his hair draping around his face perfectly, his brow creased with confusion, his clear eyes running across your face, flitting down to your body briefly and then back up again. “Why not?” he finally asks.

You shrug, “I’ve never liked it. Not many people seem to. Sometimes some of the others tell me things that I know are only out of pity, I dunno,” you trail off, trying to look away, but Jon presses a finger to your jaw and moves your head back.

“Does this look like the face of a man that pities you?” he asks, looking at you with sincerity. You shake your head and suddenly he dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and tender and everything you hoped it would be. He lingers for as long as possible before breaking away to smile at you. “You kiss as good as you look.”

“Is that a good thing?” you ask in a half-self-deprecating tone.

“Very,” Jon smirks before kissing you again. It’s just a small peck but for all it’s worth to you it may as well have gone on for hours. He studies your face a little longer, “I know how you feel, you know.”

You rasp in disbelief. “You shouldn’t, look at you!”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Jon points out, and you open and close your mouth wordlessly. He chuckles, “See?”

“Yeah, but at least you’re coming to terms with it,” you note back.

“You know why I started posting my progress on that publicly?” Jon asks. You shake your head and he continues, “After you responded so well to that one picture I sent you, I felt better about showing it to other people.”

Your face grows warm, “Shut up, that’s not the real reason.” When you see the look of sincerity on Jon’s face, you can’t help but take a deep breath in and pull him down by the shirt to kiss him. He gladly reciprocates and, in the moment, you move your other hand to sit on the back of his neck and keep him close to you. He moves one leg to straddle you, leaning down most probably to get more comfortable but in the process deepening the kiss. His arms rest either side of your head, gently playing with your hair. You make a small hum of content and he chuckles against your lips. You feel the air bubble against your own and the sensation makes you grin too. As Jon pulls up to look at you again, you bite your lip as you think of something. “You know, it’s almost that time of week again…”

Jon giggles, “Not for another two days, silly!” When you narrow your eyes at him, his widen in realisation. “Oh! But I guess a little sneak peek for my muse wouldn’t harm anyone, huh?” He chuckles as you shake your head vigorously before pulling his shirt off swiftly. You reach out and stroke his bare torso, your breath hitching as you do so. The corners of Jon’s lips move up as you trace the V-shape of his hip bones.

“Having fun?” he asks with amusement, and you drop your arms. He frowns, “No, don’t stop! I liked it,” he smirks.

“Really?” you ask, mirroring him. All kinds of emotions and hormones are just flying through you right now.

Jon nods. “I’d prove it, but I, uh, don’t wanna assume anything of you.”

It takes a moment for you to catch on, but when you do you lick your suddenly very dry lips and start reaching down to feel just below Jon’s waistband. You involuntarily whimper at the feeling of something pressing the fabric of Jon’s jeans into your palm. Jon buries his face into your neck, his hums of approval reverberating against your flesh as he pushes himself against your hand. His lips push out just a little as he presses soft and gentle pecks to your skin. You let out a long sound of happiness and feel Jon’s wide smile press against you. 

He leans up to murmur, “Think it'd be easier if I got rid of the jeans?” You nod quickly and he soon removes them.

You glance down to whimper, “Goddamn, even your legs are just…” You shake your head, unable to complete the sentence.

“I hope that ends well,” Jon smirks with amusement.

“Oh yeah, it's a good kind of speechless,” you breathe out and Jon grins, returning back to his position. 

You reach back down and continue palming him, sucking in a breath as you feel his fully-formed erection over the thin fabric. Jon’s eyes flutter shut as he hums happily and you can't help but smile proudly knowing you're making him do that. He notices and chuckles, “Someone's smug.”

You falter, turning red, “N-no, I’m just happy this is finally happening!”

Jon smiles widely once again - does it ever even leave his face? - as he kisses your rosy cheeks, “Hey now, I was only teasing. I'm happy it is too. Although, normally in my head by now you’re wearing way less, too.”

“You've thought about this?” you ask.

Jon nods in response, tugging at your pyjama pants in question. You answer simply by lifting your hips, and he pushes the offending garment down past your legs. You kick them off your ankles as you watch Jon study your hips. Part of you makes up an entire scenario where Jon sees your stretch marks, scrunches his face up in disgust and immediately gets dressed again and leaves you stranded the way you are.

Thankfully, in reality, Jon traces them with gentle concentration before leaning back over to look deep into your eyes. “You are literally made of lightning, huh.” You squint at him in confusion and he continues, “You have it in your eyes and all across you. I've always loved thunderstorms,” he smiles down at you.

“So what you're saying is that I'm basically Thor,” you giggle. You refrain from making any giant hammer jokes. Now is neither the time nor place for those. You do, however, accidentally blurt out, “Didn't someone compare you to young Loki?”

Jon bursts into laughter, “Are you telling me - in an incredibly heated moment - you're reminded of Thor and Loki?!”

You shrug, “Look Jon, we all had our fandom phases and we all had those shameful ships that we don't like to talk about, especially not now!” you add with a laugh.

Jon copies you, shaking his head and adding an affectionate, “You're ridiculous,” before kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your jawline and finally your lips. Having that moment of humour seems to have made you feel a lot more relaxed. There's no need to worry. This is Jon. The guy who invited you to sit on the couch with him on your first day at Achievement Hunter because they hadn't quite finished furnishing your office yet. The guy who memorised your coffee order within two days of knowing you. The guy who would send you pictures of his dog when he knew you were sad without even making you talk about why you were. This is your best friend, and you have no reason to believe he'd lie to you.

You're brought back from dreamily playing with his hair while he kisses your neck when his teeth scrape the sensitive flesh of your neck as he presses his crotch down against yours. The sensation causes your back to instinctively arch and your hips buck upwards, immediately craving more. 

Jon holds himself up by his arms each side of you, his hair barely tickling your face as he continues to rock his hips down, never breaking eye contact. His piercing eyes stay focused on your reactions, revelling in every time your eyes close, or your lips part. A smirk tugs at his lips every time you let out a moan. You soon wipe that off him by pushing yourself up by your arm to kiss him.

He settles practically in your lap, reaching under your top to unclip your bra and sliding his hands around to cup your breasts. You whine against his lips, tangling your fingers into his hair. He swiftly removes the top half of your clothes and lays you back down, resuming his first position of leaning on his elbow to look at your whole body. “God, so much better than how I imagined.”

You bite your lip and look over to him. “What did you imagine by this time?”

“Well,” Jon starts in a husky tone, tracing a fingertip across your stomach. “In this scenario, at this point I'd slide my hand just under these,” Jon slips his fingers just past your underwear, “start rubbing at your clit right there,” he presses one finger against the ball of nerves and moves it around in a circle, making you squirm and moan. He smiles down at you, “And then just moving ever so slightly down to,” his lips part open as he watches your reaction to him sinking one finger deep inside you. You gasp and buck against it, squeezing your eyes shut to contain the euphoria of finally having something inside of you. He starts pumping in and out of you and purrs, “You like that, baby?” You nod, whimpering at the pet name combined with his action and he smiles. “Good. God, you're so beautiful like this. I wonder how you'll look when -” he slips another finger in and you let out a long moan, your hips wiggling around from arousal. “That's it,” Jon coos, “and then usually in my mind I'll be teasing you just like this,” he sinks his fingers slightly before bringing them out and back at the same level, “before finally pressing my cock deep into your pretty little cunt.”

Hearing Jon say such a filthy word in that tone almost brings you to climax there and then. You swallow hard and manage to mumble out, “How do you know what it's like if you've never seen it?”

Jon grins, “Good point,” removes his hand from your panties and pulls down the last remaining item of your clothing. He crouches in between your legs and looks right up at you. “I was wrong,” he admits. “You're fucking incredible.” With that, Jon practically pounces forward to bury his face in amongst your thighs. His pointed tongue slips right into you and you instinctively hold his head down. He responds by deftly moving his tongue from side to side, making you buck your hips up against him even more. 

He pulls away to look up and grin at you before wrapping his arms around your thighs and licking a long stripe across your folds, eliciting a desperate murmur from you. Your skin tingles, your muscles quiver, your breath quickens. He plunges his tongue into you once again, flicking the tip of his tongue at your core until you cave, throwing your hands back above your head and pushing your hips clean off the bed as you moan Jon’s name. He waits until you’ve relaxed and settled before continuing to caress you with his tongue lazily, lapping up everything you’re giving him. 

You tap on his head to get his attention and beckon him up towards you. When he crawls up to your level you place your hand on the back of his neck to pull him down to kiss you. He happily accepts, wrapping his arms around you as he opens the kiss up, playing your two tongues together. You run your fingers up and down his back and he hums with contentment. On the way down, your hands settle just at the rim of Jon’s boxers, fingers tapping at the elastic impatiently.

Jon chuckles and climbs off the bed once again to strip down completely. You feel your core twinge once again as you see Jon’s fully erect cock pressed against him. He notices and takes it into his hand, stroking it lazily as he looks to you and smirks, “Like what you see?” You nod and his smile widens as he steps closer towards you, holding it out towards you. You part your lips readily as Jon runs his tip around them, already leaving behind a trail. You follow it round with your tongue, licking away the precum until Jon rocks his hips forward, sliding himself into your mouth. 

You bob your head further down, gradually getting yourself deeper and sucking your cheeks in as you pull up. Squeezing your thumb into your palm, you just about manage to take Jon in completely, making him throw his head back and groan loudly before pulling himself away completely. You look up at him, sticking out your lower lip slightly and he lets out a small laugh. “If I let you carry on, I’d have finished before we got to the real fun.” 

He bends down to pick up his jeans (and you appreciate the view while you can). He fiddles with his wallet before returning with condom in hand. You giggle, “Do you honestly still keep condoms in your wallet?”

“Are you honestly complaining?” Jon asks back with raised eyebrows, amusement lacing his tone. You shake your head and he nods his in response. Both of you laugh as he slides it on until he straddles you once again. He lines his cock up, running the tip along your folds a few times before finally pressing into you. You wince at the feeling of him stretch you while you’re already oversensitive and he immediately freezes. You gesture your hand around to tell him to keep going and he does, leaning over to pepper constant kisses all over your face. You grin at the notion and so does he, reaching around to interlock your fingers with his and hold your hands either side of your head as he starts to roll his hips against you.

You get used to the slightly overwhelming feeling - it’s just as before, except far more intense. Your mumbles and whimpers are now full-blown moans and screams, and Jon mirrors them as his thrusts are more animated. He lets go of your hands to grab your thighs from underneath and swing them up so your knees bend near your shoulders to fuck you even deeper. He cups your breasts, kneading them in rhythm with his movements and running the pads of his thumbs across your nipples. You lock eyes with him, his hair sticking to his crumpled brow, his lips just parting as his moans tumble from them, his blue-grey eyes half-lidded and in that one moment, you find Jon more attractive than ever. 

His thrusts become more erratic and that tingling feeling returns in much greater force. Your insides tighten and you grip your bedsheets, squeezing your eyes shut as you scream out Jon’s name for the second time. You feel yourself pulsing around him as he continues to push into you, pushing your knees out slightly as he slams into you. Before long, he throws his head back and shouts out your name as his hips slow down, his rhythm becoming gentler until he completely stills inside you.

Once he’s stopped, you let your legs back down and he looks up to grin breathlessly at you. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you smile back. “That was fun.”

“You’re damn right it was. So worth the wait,” Jon nods as he finally pulls out of you, peeling the condom off and throwing it away before joining you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your shoulder. “So do you believe me now, beautiful?”

You pull a face. “Absolutely not. But I guess I believe that that’s what you think of me.”

“Well, that’s progress, so I’ll take it,” Jon beams, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and you yawn. “Alright, sorry I bored you,” Jon jokes and you laugh.

“It’s not you, asshole! I told you I was kinda tired before you even came over,” you pout.

“I know, I know,” Jon laughs before squeezing you tightly. “You should get some sleep now.”

“Stay with me?” you ask half-sleepily, rolling over to look at him.

He sucks air in through his teeth. “Gee, as much as I’d seriously love to, and I know this sounds like a huge-ass cop-out, but I already ordered room service to deliver my breakfast in the morning.”

You giggle, “Of course you did. But this isn’t over?” you ask hopefully.

“Fuck no,” Jon shakes his head, kissing you once again. “How about I cuddle you until you sleep, to make up for it?”

“That sounds suitable enough,” you smile, rolling over and revelling in the fact you’re falling asleep in the arms of your (very naked) best friend.

=-=-=

“Hey, Y/N!” Jon calls from the Jones’ swimming pool. “C’mon, we’re about to play Chicken! You know you wanna join in!”

“Hey now, if she doesn’t want to join in, that’s completely her choice and we have to respect that,” Lindsay counters Jon with a frown.

Jon looks to you with a mischievous grin. “Naw, I just think the chicken’s too chicken to come over and play Chicken!”

You place your phone down with a sigh, quickly stripping off the clothes you’d worn over your bathing suit and running to the pool shouting, “You wanna bet?!”

As you jump in and feel the cool water rush over you, you hear the muffled cheers of your friends, and surface to hear their “-y god, Y/N! You look fantastic!” “Nice to see you in here at last!” “I’m so proud of you!”

You push your wet hair away from your face and point at Blaine. “You there! Noble steed! I need your head between my legs, and not in the fun way!”

Everyone laughs, and Jon points to Aaron, who immediately interjects with an, “I’ll have you sit on my shoulders but I’m not sucking you off.”

You and Barbara both chorus a, “Damnit!” and laugh before you’re suddenly lifted high above the water’s surface. Blaine’s arms wrap your legs tightly as he walks you over to where Jon and Aaron meet you.

Tyler yells out a “Three, two, one, FIGHT!” and you launch yourself towards Jon, who leans over to you to instead cup your face.

“Hey,” he coos soothingly, “You look really good like that.”

“You know how you look really good?” you ask softly, and Jon shakes his head. You grin wickedly, “Falling into the water!” before using all the strength you can muster to topple him into the pool. You end up recoiling yourself, but Blaine stabilises you and you raise your arms in victory.

As Jon resurfaces he tackles Blaine, who initially is unresponsive until Jon wears him down and eventually you drop into the water too. You and Jon splash each other a little, then Blaine comes to help you, as do Barbara and Aaron (with added “fuck you!” from Jon) and everyone else.

A little while after, while you’re sat at the side of the pool, Barbara joins you. “I’m glad you’re joining us! You seem to be a lot more confident lately.”

You shrug, “Honestly, a lot of it’s still fake. But I’m trying,” you nod to her, and she smiles back warmly.

“Oh, hey, remember when I tried to convince you that I hadn’t stopped mid-sentence that time, when we were sat over there?” she points to the loungers you’d sat at the first night you were here and nod. “There  _ was  _ a part b. We’ve all been hearing about how undeniably out of Jon’s league you are, but he made us swear to not let it on to you,” she rolls her eyes.

You furrow your brow, “Me? Out of Jon’s league? That’s not right at all.”

“He thinks so. We sure do, but we’ve known Jon longer,” Barbara laughs. “But even so, the second reason why I wouldn’t be ‘allowed’ to hit on you is because Jon would never forgive me. Not in the creepy, she-belongs-to-me way, mind,” she hurriedly explains. “More in the damn-you-got-there-first way. Ooh, speak of the devil.” Barbara notices Jon walking towards you both and joins the rest of the group in the water.

Jon takes her place next to you. “You know, even though you whooped my ass out there,” he starts, raising his eyebrows at you, “I’m immensely proud of you for this,” Jon slides his finger just underneath a shoulder strap before taking it out to pull you close by the chin and kiss you sweetly.

“Did you honestly tell people I was out of your league?!” you ask in disbelief.

Jon’s head whips around to yell, “Goddamnit, Barb!” before returning to you. “Well, yeah. I know it sounds dumb and high-school-y but...I’ve had a pretty big crush on you since the first time you walked into Achievement Hunter. Not everybody gets to sit on my couch, you know,” he nods with sincerity and both of you laugh.

“I had no idea,” you shrug, and Jon’s eyes widen.

“Really?! At points I even made it blindingly obvious!” he exclaims.

“Wait, what?!” you ask. “I mean, I guess that first thing you said about my in pyjamas but I figured you were still in post-con mode, and then you never really brought it up after -”

“- Until that night I not only told you I was offended that you were hiding your adorable selfies from me, I also said that you’d rock anything you wore,” Jon points out.

You think back to that night and blush brightly. “In my defence, I’d had alcohol and you never used the word adorable back then!”

“And then there was the time I almost didn’t get in the pool the whole first night you were here until you made that comment on how you thought I looked good, and that’s when I felt good enough to head on in.”

“Well, I’m not good at taking hints! All of that just went,” you blow air out of your lips and wave above your head, making Jon laugh. “But I get it now. I mean, you’re totally deluded, don’t get me wrong, but -”

“I am not,” Jon insists, leaning in to kiss you again. “Alright, so maybe neither of us are completely out of the others’ leagues. Maybe we’re at the top of each other’s.”

You grin, “I love that idea!”

Jon looks down, biting at his lip before looking up at you through his lashes. “I love you.”

Your face breaks out into the biggest grin yet as you finally say the words, “I love you too, Jon Risinger.”


End file.
